


A Little Christmas Getaway

by KatieComma



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Christmas, First Kiss, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21741502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: It's Christmas Day in Vegas.Warrick finds out Nick plans to spend the day alone, and decides that just won't do.
Relationships: Warrick Brown/Nick Stokes
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43





	A Little Christmas Getaway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [becauseimawinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/becauseimawinchester/gifts).



> This idea popped into my head SUPER randomly... and it's the absolute perfect gift for the Warrnick shipper in my life.
> 
> Thank you SOOO much Orianess for talking me down off a ledge with this one!!!

Warrick stood at his locker and let out a huge sigh. Christmas Eve was one of the worst nights of the year to work. People got crazy and stupid at the holidays. And it was painful watching bad things happen to good people during the “happiest time of the year.” One particular ten year old boy was waiting at home for a mother that wasn’t coming. That kid would never ever enjoy Christmas again.

“You alright man?” Nick’s voice cut through the bad thoughts.

“Yeah,” Warrick said into his locker. “Christmas Eve, you know how it is.”

“I do,” Nick said, sitting down on the bench to untie his boots. “It just kills me the way suicide rates go up during the holidays.”

Warrick nodded as he carefully tucked his vest into his locker and grabbed his jacket. He sat down next to Nick, feeling heavy as he settled on the bench.

“Big plans today?” Nick asked as he pried at a stubborn shoelace.

Warrick watched Nick’s hands as he tugged at the laces. Warrick had always loved Nick’s hands. His fingers were long and thick and looked clumsy, and yet they could handle delicate tasks with such precision.

“Earth to Warrick,” Nick said. His fingers had freed the knot and he was staring at Warrick. “You sure you’re ok man?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Warrick replied, turning away so he didn’t stare any longer. He’d spent so much time staring at Nick he wondered that no one had called him on it, especially Nick. “No big plans today. Same old, same old. Sleep and come back to work tonight.”

“Same here,” Nick said as he stuffed his boots away and put on his non-work boots. “Thought I might hit the gym, maybe? It’ll probably be quiet today.”

“Man, you can’t go to the gym on Christmas,” Warrick scoffed. “That’s like, the opposite of what you’re supposed to do.”

Nick smiled and turned a little to meet Warrick’s eye. “Says the guy who just said he was gonna have a regular ole day today.”

“Come on,” Warrick said. “Get your stuff. We’re not gonna have no sad ass Christmas, just pretending like it’s not a holiday.”

Nick’s face lit up. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

Warrick hadn’t thought that far ahead, and his brain was fried on a long day full of shit. “Let’s go hit up the Tangiers. Maybe sit in on Hold ‘em.”

“I’m in,” Nick grinned. He grabbed his coat and headed toward the garage.

The Tangiers was relatively quiet, but Warrick wasn’t surprised at 8 AM on Christmas Day. It would definitely pick up later. For now, they had a table to themselves. 

The warble of Blue Christmas drifted from speakers far overhead, and it was definitely quiet if they could hear the music. Normally the sheer amount of people would drown out everything but the dinging of the slot machines.

Warrick dropped down a fifty for Nick when they sat down.

“Naw, I got my own buy-in man,” Nick tried to wave the money away.

“It’s on me Nicky,” Warrick said, “Merry Christmas.”

“Listen up, I’m gonna pay you back from all my winnings, you hear?” Nick winked.

Warrick loved when Nick did that. He flirted shamelessly with everyone, but Warrick treasured it whenever it happened to him. Those moments fuelled his fantasies.

Warrick reacted like he always did, playing off his lust with humour. “Yeah sure, big man,” he laughed, “when you need another buy-in a half hour from now we’ll see.”

Nick laughed in return and sat down, accepting his chips from the dealer.

They sat close, and Warrick tried not to read too much into it. But Nick scooted his chair closer, their elbows brushing every time Nick pulled a new pair of cards back toward him. It was Christmas, and Nick was seeking companionship, that’s all it was.

But god if Warrick didn’t love the way it felt each time Nick’s elbow brushed against him.

The waitress came around quick, and Nick ordered them whiskeys.

“Merry Christmas,” he said clinking their glasses when the drinks arrived.

Warrick responded and took a long sip. It flowed down smooth. “Best Christmas I’ve had in a while,” he said once he put the glass back down.

They played cards as though it were background noise. Neither one of them needing to think long before betting or folding, it was second nature.

“Best Christmas in a while, and it’s barely even started,” Nick said.

Warrick glanced over quick, sure he’d heard innuendo in that sentence. But Nick’s eyes were intent on his cards. His face was flush, but he’d quickly downed his whiskey, it was probably just the liquor warming his skin. Warrick was imagining things because he was lonely and it was Christmas, and his imagination had started to dwell on Nick more and more these days. His subconscious was pulling his fantasies forward because his brain was just plain tired.

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t bad. It was comfortable.

Each time Nick did anything with his hands, Warrick’s eyes were drawn there. The things he’d imagined those hands doing to him. The fantasies that had bloomed based on nothing more than the wide spread of his palm and the length of his fingers.

Each time they were dealt a new hand, Warrick checked his own cards quickly, barely registering what they were before he watched Nick reach out with such wonderful, casual grace and press the cards to the felt, pulling them back toward him slowly. And then, he would fan them out, pin them tightly with his middle finger, before using his thumb to curl them up for a look. It was like watching someone dance, the movement predictable and still beautiful and addictive to see every time.

Those hands. With no breakfast in him, and enough whiskey to get him loosely buzzed, Warrick let his mind draw on his fantasies. Those beautiful, perfect hands on his body, touching his skin, pushing softly through his chest hair. An index finger sucked into his mouth where he could taste the salt of Nick’s skin and curl his tongue around knuckles.

Warrick would have known if Nick had good cards from the twinkle that lit up his brown eyes at the sight of a good hand, and even though Nick’s eyes were a masterpiece in their own right, Warrick couldn’t take his eyes off of Nick’s hands; the way he toyed with his empty glass while he waited for the river cards, the circles he drew in the felt as he leaned forward to grab his new cards. 

Warrick felt high.

The waitress came around again and interrupted his thoughts.

Nick ordered some eggnog and rum for them, light on the rum.

“This one’s on me,” Warrick said, but Nick wouldn’t let him have it.

“I don’t think so dear,” Nick joked in that way they did sometimes, straying way to close to something Warrick really did want. “You got my buy in, I’m gettin’ you drunk.”

“So the truth comes out,” Warrick spit out before he could stop himself. “You are tryin’ to get me drunk.”

They laughed together, Nick leaning into him, and slapping his shoulder.

“Well you two are just the cutest couple,” the dealer said suddenly. Warrick hadn’t noticed her before, apart from the cards she threw his way; a plump women with bobbed hair, she could have been somebody’s sweet little mother. “What brings you two to town? Little Christmas getaway?”

Nick nudged at Warrick and grinned wide. “You know it...” he squinted to read the name tag, “Doris. A little getaway, just the two of us.”

“So sweet, and just in time for Christmas,” she said as she flipped the next river card. “Are you staying through New Years? It really is beautiful.”

“I think we just might, right baby?” Nick winked at him.

Warrick’s mouth went dry. His skin crawled with how wrong this all was. Playacting at something he really wanted wasn’t something he could stomach. Sure, flirting with Nick occasionally was one thing, but sitting and pretending they were together; Nope, not for one second would Warrick get on board that train.

Nick was still chatting with the dealer, but Warrick’s brain had tuned it out. The moment Nick’s arm found its way around Warrick’s shoulders, he pushed back from the table, leaving his eggnog untouched.   
He slid the chips toward Doris. “Keep ‘em. Merry Christmas,” he said, walking away from 80 dollars and change.

His legs were long, his strides quick and confidant as he made for the exit. It wasn’t Nick’s fault, he was just having fun, didn’t know that Warrick’s feelings hung in the balance. But Warrick was about to explode if he sat for much longer.

“Rick!” Nick’s voice called out behind him, and he could hear the soft pounding of Nick’s boots on the carpeted floor.

Warrick kept walking.

And then Nick was in front of him, an angry look on his face. “What in the hell is the matter with you?”

“Get outta my way Nick.” Warrick stood tall and tried to loom over Nick, but didn’t work; it never worked with Nick.

“No. You just left 80 bucks sittin’ there like it didn’t mean nothin’ and walked away without a word. What the hell is goin’ on with you man?”

“Really?” Warrick asked, ready to explode. “You really gonna ask me that right now?”

“Sorry,” Nick said angrily, “I didn’t realize you were such a homophobe dude. If I’da known that we probably wouldn’t been friends these past few years.”

“A homophobe?” Warrick asked, his voice ramping up. “You seriously think that’s what this is about? You’re even dumber than you look.”

Nick’s eyebrows narrowed in anger. “That right?” He puffed up his chest like the big stupid macho guy he was, and put his hands to his hips.

“What? You wanna fight me Nick?” Warrick asked.

“Gentlemen,” a soft, but firm voice approached. “There’s no fighting here.” A security guard, almost taller than Warrick had come up alongside them.

“Whatever. He’s not worth it,” Warrick said, shoving past Nick and trying not to think about the warmth they shared when their bodies connected for that brief moment.

“Excuse me?” Nick said, grabbing Warrick’s shoulder hard.

Warrick turned, ready to punch, but the security guard was there between them.

“Alright fellas, come with me,” he grabbed them each by the arm like they were schoolchildren, and led them to a nondescript door that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking for it.

The hallway they entered was stark white, no warm comforting lights and colours here. This hallway was for utility. And still music drifted down the hall, even this place unable to escape the holiday madness. White Christmas played softly, Bing Crosby’s voice coming and going.

“Get off me,” Nick struggled in the guy’s grip. But it was a strong grip.

“I don’t think so,” the guard said. “You guys are outta here. And I wasn’t about to drag you through the Christmas crowd out there.”

“Hold up man,” Warrick said, the fight gone from his voice.

The guard stopped, and just looked at him.

“It’s all good man, can you just… give us a few minutes?” Warrick said. “I’m sure me and my buddy here can talk this out. And hell, if we start punchin’ we won’t be out on the floor in front of the customers.”

The guy shrugged. “Have at’er. But I’m gonna be right outside that door and if you come back through that way I won’t be so nice this time.” He pointed down the hallway, the way he'd been leading them. “Exit’s that way.” The guard went back the way they’d come and out into the loud casino.

As soon as the door closed the warm tones of White Christmas echoed around them again.

“Are you really gonna get all up in my face about some little joke?” Nick asked. “We make jokes like that all the time around the lab.”

And there it was, and Warrick’s blood was boiling again. “I can’t do this right now Nick,” he said through gritted teeth before he started to walk to the exit.

Nick was suddenly in front of him again. “Well you’re gonna do it right now, or you’re gonna have to go through me. What _was_ that Warrick? Why’d you up and run off?”

And he finally met Nick’s eye and realized he hadn’t done it during their entire argument, afraid of what he’d see there: disgust? Hatred? But he didn't see any of those emotions, there was something like sadness there instead. Of course there was. They were friends, and Warrick was ruining it like he'd ruined every other relationship he’d ever had. Nick didn’t want to lose his bro. And neither did Warrick, but he couldn’t sit there and pretend something else, it was too hard.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Nick,” Warrick admitted. The truth sure wasn’t gonna cut it. “So I’m gonna go home and go to bed, and then tonight I’m gonna get up and come into work. And hopefully we’ll be alright. Ok?” He slipped around Nick and started walking for the exit again.

“I’m not done with you!” Nick yelled, voice echoing in the barren hallway.

Warrick turned and summoned as much anger as he could but Nick didn’t back down. Nick never backed down, no matter what shit Warrick threw at him.

“What, Nick?” Warrick roared. “What do you want from me?

“More than you’re willing to give I guess,” Nick growled. His anger faded into sadness and his big brown eyes filled up with something Warrick couldn’t figure out. His brain felt fuzzy from the fatigue of a long day mixed with that one glass of whiskey and Nick’s proximity.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Warrick asked, his anger slipping into confusion and unease.

And then Nick held up his beautiful hands, palms out, like he was surrendering. “I’m tired man,” Nick said. “I’m tired of seeing the way you look at me and dropping you hints and waiting. I’m done waiting. And I think you and me deserve a damn Christmas miracle.” Nick reached out for him, taking hold of his forearm, and Warrick didn’t back down. “Rick?”

God those hands. Touching his skin, just like he always wanted. And Nick was telling him he could have it, if he just reached out and took it.

Warrick pushed Nick back against the wall and kissed him before he could reconsider. Nick slid his hands to Warrick’s rib cage, his fingers flexing there like he was trying to hold on.

Nick tipped his head to break their lips apart. “Rick?” His voice was rough.

Warrick kept his eyes closed, but brought a hand up to trace Nick’s perfect jawline, run fingertips down the side of his neck. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure about this?” Nick asked. “I can’t come back from this. I want it too much. I gotta know you’re sure man.”

“Oh god Nicky,” Warrick let his lips trail along smooth cheek, back to Nick’s lips where he left the softest kiss. “I never wanted anything so bad.”

Nick finally wrapped his arms all the way around Warrick’s waist and pulled them tight together, leaning back into the wall for support. Their mouths met and opened and it was whiskey and eggnog and down underneath it all: Nick.

Everything Warrick had ever imagined was blown out of the water by the way Nick pushed back against him and didn’t just melt for him; didn’t just give in and let Warrick take over. Which was every relationship Warrick had ever had. Everyone just gave into his strength, his large frame, his masculinity. Not Nick. Their tongues fought in the best way, sliding back and forth and teasing and tasting. The noises Nick made were pornographic as his body pressed against Warrick, hard everywhere, needy.

The loud click of the door leading back to the casino echoed down the hall.

Warrick didn’t care, he kept pressing Nick into wall and kissing him dirty.

“Get a room or go home!” The guard’s voice drifted to them. “I’m giving you five minutes before I come back and make sure you’re gone.”

Nick pressed off from the wall, making Warrick stumble against the show of strength. And man did it turn him on, sparking arousal up and down his whole body.

Nick moved his kisses to Warrick’s cheek, soft lips against stubble. “Come home with me,” Nick requested into Warrick’s ear.

They were both still pushing for dominance in the middle of the hallway, each trying to back the other into a wall and neither allowing it.

Warrick pulled back and took Nick’s face into his palms. And god he fit so perfectly there, nestled gently between fingers that Warrick had always thought of as brutish and clumsy.

Nick pressed into the touch, letting his cheek scratch against palm.

“Hell yeah,” Warrick said, “let’s get outta here.”

Warrick let an arm fall across the back of Nick’s shoulders, and Nick wrapped his own around Warrick’s waist. It was something they’d done before, arms casually around a friend. But now there was something else in it. The way Nick’s hand gripped tightly instead of just resting. Warrick letting his hand slip to the back of Nick’s neck to caress the skin there. It was comfortable, yet intimate.

They walked down the hall toward the exit the guard had pointed out. Taking something that had become friendship and making it more the whole way.

Warrick sat pressed up against the door on one side of the cab backseat, while Nick was on the other side. Warrick had specifically put himself as far away from Nick as possible. Not because he was reconsidering, but because he was sure that if he got his hands on Nick again he wouldn’t be able to stop touching him. And they weren’t quite home yet.

They hadn’t said a word since they’d climbed into the cab, and a twangy country version of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” blared out of the car stereo.

The sun was shining bright, a perfect sunny Christmas Day as they drove past stores and restaurants decked with red and green decorations, Santas walking around the street, and lots of people looking ready to celebrate.

Warrick felt the seat shift next to him, Nick moving closer, until their thighs were pressed together. He turned his head and Nick was right there.

“Hey,” Warrick said, his voice sounded rusty and unused.

“Hey,” Nick replied. “I can’t… I want to be…” He didn’t get another word out before he grabbed at the back of Warrick’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Warrick wanted to fight it, wanted to say: “wait until we get to your place,” but instead he gave in, wrapping his arms around Nick’s shoulders and opening his mouth. Nick pressed him hard against the window, their kisses perforated with sharp indrawn breaths and panting as Nick’s hands roamed Warrick’s body. Those beautiful hands that Warrick watched and coveted, were grabbing and tugging hard at his shirt, untucking it from his pants. And then Nick’s hands were sliding up under the clingy wife-beater he wore underneath until fingers found skin.

They both sighed and groaned into each others mouths, and Warrick’s hips moved on their own, seeking some kind of relief. He wanted to pull Nick into his lap, wanted to take off his own shirt and give better access.

But before he could get carried away with himself, he ripped his mouth away from Nick’s. “Wait. Not here,” he managed to pant out. “Not here Nicky.”

Nick moved his mouth to Warrick’s ear and licked around it before sucking the earlobe into his mouth.

Warrick groaned and closed his eyes, gripping Nick’s shoulders tight, probably too tight.

Nick whispered into his ear. “I know you’re right,” he admitted, “but damn if I don’t wanna do real bad things to you here in this backseat.”

Warrick groaned, grabbed Nick’s hair and pulled him back enough to get their mouths together again. Why had it taken so long for them to get their heads out of their asses?

Warrick knew that if he moved his hands from Nick’s face or neck that he would lose control, so he tried to keep himself well above the belt so they wouldn’t get arrested for indecent exposure, or kicked out of the cab.

“I’m gonna do such bad things to you,” Warrick promised between kisses.

Nick actually keened at that and Warrick thought for a moment that he was going to lift a leg over and get into Warrick’s lap, when the cab stopped.

“Alright lovebirds,” the cabbie said, sounding more than a little disgusted. “That’s eight fifty.”

“Pay the man Nicky,” Warrick said as he opened the door and slipped out of Nick’s arms.

“All I got’s a twenty,” Nick said, tossing the bill over the front seat, “keep the change.”

Warrick didn’t grab for him on the way to the door, or at the door while he waited a painfully long time for Nick to open it. Warrick wasn’t sure exactly what Nick’s neighbours knew about him, or how nosy they were. So he opted to keep hands off. It also meant better odds that they would actually make it into the place.

“You know how many people have had good Christmases because of us today?” Warrick asked, leaning next to the door while Nick fumbled his keys. “I left that 80 for sweet old Doris… twelve dollar tip for the cab driver…”

“I left my money for Doris too,” Nick said with that fantastic grin that etched laugh lines in his face and made his eyes sparkle.

“What were you at? About twenty down?” Warrick asked, smiling back when all he wanted to do was kiss those laugh lines and make Nick smile more the whole time. “So Doris made over a hundred on us. Merry Christmases all around.”

The lock clicked open on Nick’s door, but he didn’t push it open. Instead his face went serious, like it did when he was emotional, and he just stared at Warrick. “Best Christmas I’ve had in as long as I can remember,” he said earnestly. And then he reached up and put a hand to Warrick’s cheek so tenderly.

Warrick couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him that way. Usually it was rough and fast, even with people he’d been in long term relationships with. They wanted his strength, his macho attitude, they wanted him to be in control while they raked at his skin and called out his name. They didn’t want soft touches and gentleness. But turns out Warrick had wanted it all along.

“Nicky,” he choked out the name through a wave of emotion.

“Come ‘ere, Rick,” Nick opened his arms and let Warrick step into them. He held him tightly, rubbing comforting patterns across his back. “Come inside,” Nick requested.

Warrick just nodded against Nick’s neck, not trusting to his words just yet.

Nick took his hand, twining their fingers together and led him through the door before closing and locking it behind him.

Warrick had been to Nick’s place a thousand times, and he looked around the comforting space.

They’d lounged on the couch and watched games, or had beers at the little bar overlooking the kitchen. Sometimes they just sat at the table and talked; about dates, work, sports… whatever came up. Warrick had no bad memories in Nick’s place. They were all good.

Nick squeezed his hand and a ripple of nervous energy surged through Warrick. Things were either about to get a whole lot better, or he was ruining a great friendship. But Warrick knew that was stupid thinking. Friendship with Nick had never been satisfying enough.

Warrick turned to Nick and was almost bowled over by the lust he saw swimming in the deep brown eyes. “Is that your keys in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Warrick asked trying to lighten the mood and bring his thoughts away from the emotions that were trying to take him over. He slid a hand down Nick’s stomach and over the front of his jeans, feeling the hardness pressing into his hand.

“Definitely happy to see you,” Nick said as he jingled his keys from his fingers before he threw them at the dish on the counter. He missed.

Nick dropped his jacket to the floor, as he pushed Warrick back toward the hallway. The hallway that Warrick knew led to Nick’s bedroom. Nick’s bedroom was the only place he’d never really spent time. He’d passed it, and peeked in the doorway on his way to the bathroom, but he’d never been over the threshold and crossed into that space. But then, it was a day for crossing boundaries, and Warrick was so ready for it.

Warrick let his coat fall too, almost tripping over it as he stumbled back under Nick’s powerful hands. He hit the wall of the hallway, and pulled Nick close to kiss him hard, opening their mouths immediately and sliding their tongues against each other.

Warrick’s hands wandered down and started to fumble at the buttons on Nick’s shirt, pushing them through the button holes as quickly as he could manage while also focusing on Nick’s tongue in his mouth and trying not to think too hard about what that tongue might feel like elsewhere.

Nick’s hands wandered up and down Warrick’s sides. His shirt was mostly open, and it took nothing for Nick to undo the last few buttons. The white tank underneath tight was against his skin, and Nick’s fingers teased overtop of that thin fabric.

It wasn’t enough. Warrick needed more. Needed to feel Nick’s hands on his skin. Those hands, he wanted those hands everywhere.

He stopped unbuttoning Nick’s shirt, let his own shirt slide from his shoulders and pulled the tight tank over his head, breaking their mouths apart as the fabric cut between them.

Nick didn’t resume kissing straight away, but instead spread his hands wide over Warrick’s chest and looked down at his body. “Rick, man…” Nick panted before he leaned in and started kissing at Warrick’s collarbone and then moving lower.

Warrick groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. He found Nick’s shirt and started unbuttoning again, finally finishing the job and trying to slide the shirt down Nick’s arms. But Nick was preoccupied, and let the fabric pool at his elbows while he continued to caress and kiss Warrick’s skin.

Warrick put a hand to the back of Nick’s head, gripping at the hair, and tugging a little to get Nick closer to where he wanted.

He felt Nick smile against his skin before he took a nipple into his mouth and teased at it with his teeth, and then circled with his tongue.

Warrick breathed heavily as he looked down, watched Nick's tongue work across his skin. He wanted to say something, but his mouth wasn’t functioning and he couldn’t focus enough to form words. Normally he was good at it, suave and sexy and full of dirty talk, but Nick’s tongue was too much.

And then Nick stopped. Warrick tried to use his grip to push Nick’s face back against his chest, but Nick fought and won, pushing back, standing up straight and meeting Warrick’s eye.

“Listen Rick,” Nick said softly, moving in closer, his hands still playing with the skin on Warrick’s sides, a little ticklish. “I just gotta make sure… I need to be really clear about this. This isn’t just a one night stand for me. I’m goin’ for broke on you man.”

Warrick swallowed heavily, feeling the emotion swell in him again, but he spoke through it. “Oh come on now Nicky, you ain’t tryin’ to back out on me now, are you?” He smiled wide and then realized, when Nick’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, that he had evaded the question. He hadn’t intended to. He took Nick’s cheeks in his hands. “I’m all in Nick. I’m not good… talkin’ about the emotional stuff, you know? But I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Warrick pulled him in and kissed at the creases in Nick’s forehead as they eased away, and then moved to kiss at the lines around his eyes and mouth until Nick was laughing and smiling in his hands.

And then their mouths met again, and they took it up another notch, lips and tongues messy and uncoordinated as they pushed off from the wall and made their way toward Nick’s room, stumbling blindly down the hall.

As they tripped into Nick’s room with a laugh, fumbling at each other’s belts, they stopped kissing long enough to look down and focus on what they were doing. Warrick struggled longer with Nick’s because of the stupid belt buckle that was in the way, and in the meantime Nick slipped his hands around to grab at Warrick’s ass suggestively.

“How we doin’ this man?” Nick asked.

“I’m a top all the way,” Warrick said casually as he continued to struggle with the buckle.

“Me too,” Nick replied, still getting his breath back from their make out session.

Warrick’s heart fell into his stomach. All this, just to find out that they weren’t compatible in bed because they were both tops? He chided himself. He should have known somehow. He stopped playing with the big silver buckle and lets his hands rest on Nick’s hips.

Sure, they could fool around a bit, play with blow jobs and hand jobs. But it would never be satisfying for Warrick, he knew that, he needed more from a physical relationship than just hands and mouths. It wouldn’t be fair to string someone along under the delusion of complete satisfaction. He sighed heavily.

“What?” Nick asked, reaching down and easily undoing his own belt, letting the buckle fall heavily against his jeans. “What’s up?”

Warrick met his eye and let his disappointment show through.

Nick just smiled. “Don’t worry about it man,” he said, moving closer again and popping the button on Warrick’s pants. “I’ve bottomed before. It’s good.” He was so close, breath hot against Warrick’s neck, his chin, his lips. “I’ll do it again. For you.” And then their lips were together and any momentum Warrick had lost was found as his pants slipped down and he kicked his feet free of them.

Nick’s jeans were tighter, and as he pushed them down, he had to follow them, kissing Nick’s chest along the way, circling his bellybutton with the tip of his tongue. While he was kneeling, he grabbed the waistband of Nick’s underwear and pulled them down too, rewarded with a gasp from Nick as he was suddenly fully naked, Warrick kneeling at his feet.

Warrick grinned before he pushed Nick back to sit at the end of the bed.

“Look at you,” Warrick said, running his hands from Nick’s hips up his chest and back down again. “You’re so hot baby.”

Nick chuckled a little before he darted his tongue out to lick at his lips. Warrick loved when he did that. Normally it was so distracting, but now it helped him focus because now was the right time for those thoughts. The ones that were making him so hard he thought he might come untouched.

“Bet you taste good too,” Warrick said, dipping his head down to blow a teasing breath across Nick’s lap.

Nick laughed again, louder this time, his stomach rippling with it.

Warrick smiled and sat back on his heels. “Now what in the hell are you laughin’ about Stokes?”

Nick’s smile turned knowing. “Nothin’, nothin’,” he said before quickly adding: “I wondered if you’d talk like a player in the sack. Guess I was right.”

Warrick raised an eyebrow. “A player? That right?”

“You heard me,” Nick challenged, flopping back onto his elbows, stretching out obscenely, invitingly.

Warrick surged up suddenly, kissing Nick and pushing him up further on the bed. It was a little rough, the push and tug of muscle against muscle until finally Nick was laid back in the pillows, stretched out under Warrick, a long perfect line of soft skin and muscle among other things.

Nick reached down, and pushed at Warrick’s boxers, twisting and trying to sit up to try to get them off. “Come on,” he urged against Warrick’s lips, “I need you naked, like, yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Warrick teased, kissing at Nick’s neck. “What are you gonna do with me naked?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Nick laughed, still trying to push the offending underwear away while Warrick had him pinned to the mattress.

Warrick drew his fingertips down Nick’s chest and stomach until he suddenly took Nick in hand and stroked him tight.

Nick threw his head back and groaned. “Rick! Holy… give a guy… some… warning… next time,” he shouted, abandoning the task at hand and gripping tightly at Warrick’s shoulders instead.

“There’s no fun in that,” Warrick whispered into his ear, sucking on the lobe. “You got supplies, Nicky?”

Nick moaned load, and bucked his hips into Warrick’s tight grip. “Nnnntop drawer,” he managed through pornographic noises, pointing to the nightstand.

Warrick had never been so hard in his life, his entire body pulsing with the need he felt. But he was still so far from the goal. It would be so much easier this first time for them to just lend each other a hand or a mouth, and save the more complicated stuff for the next time when their brains were online. But Warrick craved it, and Nick had offered so easily.

Warrick rolled away, taking his hand with him, and leaving Nick panting and reaching out for him.

“Get back here,” Nick growled, reaching across the bed like a drowning man reaching for a life raft.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Warrick teased, snapping the elastic band of his own boxers. “I thought you wanted me naked. That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Make up your damn mind already.”

“Alright, alright,” Nick was still panting. “But hurry up about it, Rick.”

Warrick opened the drawer and grabbed the fair sized bottle, tossing it onto the bed. It was half empty. “Somebody’s been busy,” he said.

“All by my lonesome,” Nick admitted, his cheeks colouring red. “Having a bit of a drought I guess. And I’ve had that bottle for a while…”

“All by your lonesome?” Warrick asked. “You’re kiddin’ me right? You looked in the mirror… ever?”

Nick’s cheeks got even more red, and his hands tangled together over his stomach.

Those hands. The moment Warrick’s attention was drawn to them, they were all he could think about.

“It’s all good,” Warrick said, “you’re not by your lonesome anymore.”

Nick met Warrick’s eye, and held that gaze as Warrick dropped his underwear.

He crawled onto the bed and grabbed the bottle, and Nick’s face was transformed into a mess of worry lines and concern. He swallowed heavily and his eyes grew wider.

“We don’t have to,” Warrick said, “I just want _you_ , Nicky. Anyway you want.” He leaned down and kissed Nick softly, to let him know it wasn’t just about that. In the long run Warrick would want it if they were going to make a go of a real relationship, which seemed to be their intention, but the first night together didn’t have to go that far.

“I want to,” Nick said into Warrick’s mouth, “so badly…”

“But?” Warrick asked, sitting back.

“It’s just… been a while… since I was on that side’a things… this side’a things,” Nick replied. “I haven’t been with a guy in a while, let alone…”

Warrick set a tender hand to Nick’s cheek. And this was not at all what he had expected. He’d thought sex with Nick would be fast and rushed and a little rough. Because Warrick expected most sex to go that way, assumed everyone wanted the same thing from him. But something between them had settled into emotional, the rush and adrenaline of a quick fuck was nowhere in sight. And it made Warrick feel so many things, but above all: warm, and wanted and important.

“Don’t worry Nicky, I got you,” Warrick said softly before he laid a quick tender kiss to the hard, nervous line of Nick’s mouth.

Then he slid down the bed a little and popped the cap on the bottle of lube, slicking up one finger to start.

Nick spread his legs invitingly, his strong, beautiful hands gripping the sheets as he stared at the ceiling.

“Nu-uh,” Warrick said, “look at _me_. Ok?”

Nick looked down and nodded, still way too nervous for it to be any fun.

Warrick was about to reiterate that they didn’t need to do anything so drastic their first time in bed together, when Nick grabbed the bottle of lube from him, slicked up two fingers and pushed the first one inside himself with no ceremony or hesitation.

Warrick groaned and crawled further down the bed to get a better view. Nick’s hands. Nick’s fingers. Opening himself up for Warrick. His dirtiest fantasies about Nick had never been so perfectly and exactly what Warrick wanted.

Nick kept his eyes on Warrick, and his worry turned into a grin, his eyes wide with want as he watched Warrick’s reaction.

Warrick knew it hadn’t been nearly long enough when Nick added a second finger. Nick groaned, and slowed the motions, being more gentle with himself, but kept his eyes locked on Warrick.

“You…” Nick panted between the words. “Like… watching… me…”

“It’s your hands Nick,” Warrick admitted. There were no more barrier between them. “I’ve always loved your hands. Shit, I could watch you do this all day.”

“I don’t… think I…” Nick’s fingers went deep and he howled and growled, throwing his head back for a second before he looked down again and continued his broken sentence. “Don’t… think I… could do this… all day…” He laughed and it was punctuated with a moan. “The angle is… hard…”

Warrick’s finger was still slick, and he ran it around Nick’s tender skin, where his body gripped his own fingers tightly in pleasure.

Nick moaned again, and let out that guttural growl.

“Let me help,” Warrick said. Tentatively, he slowly slipped one of his own fingers in next to Nick’s two.

As Warrick’s finger bottomed out, Nick yelled Warrick’s name.

Nick pulled his own fingers out, rolling his wrist from the awkward angle, and Warrick replaced Nick’s fingers with his own. Warrick found that two fingers usually sufficed, but he wanted Nick to be open and comfortable and feeling good when this thing went down.

He didn’t know how long it was that he watched his own fingers slide in and out of Nick, stretching muscle and making him ready. He had to add more lube once, and had finally found Nick’s prostate, making things much more interesting and helping Nick relax along the way.

Warrick’s mouth started to run again. He couldn’t help it, and the words just tumbled out of him. “You like that?” He asked. “Right there? Like that?” He made Nick writhe from the pressure on that wonderful little place inside.

“Warrick,” Nick pressed the name out through gritted teeth and laboured breathing. “Ready. Good. Come on, Rick.”

Warrick slipped his fingers free, and with no warning slid them back in again, all three, as deep as they would go. And they went so easily, Nick opening up under him, hips thrusting into the air from the stimulation.

Before they went to the next level, Warrick gave in to the urge to taste Nick, leaned over and took him into his mouth, as deep as he could, sucking hard.

“Jesus Christ, Rick!” Nick shouted, taking handfuls of Warrick’s hair and pulling him off, hard.

Warrick let Nick slip free from his mouth with the wet pop of breaking suction and saliva.

“You can’t…” Nick groaned, meeting Warrick’s eye. “You’ve got me so close already. I can’t. I want…”

Warrick crawled up Nick’s beautiful body and kissed him, settling between his thighs. Their mouths opened to each other, tongues slithering back and forth.

“What do you want, Nick?” Warrick asked earnestly when he pushed up on his elbows to look into Nick’s deep, beautiful eyes. “Anything. I’ll give you anything. Name it.”

Nick smiled. “You know what I want,” he answered.

“Say it,” Warrick demanded, grinning back at him.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Just fuck me already, would you, Rick?”

Warrick laughed. “Yeah, I think I can do that.” With the excess lube on his hands, he slicked himself up and moved closer.

“Nope, I don’t think so,” Nick said, pulling his thighs together a little so Warrick couldn’t push in.

“You just said-” Warrick started, but before he could finish, Nick had wrapped a leg around his waist, turned and used his core muscles to roll them so Warrick was on his back, Nick straddling his stomach.

“Woah!” Warrick said, pushing against Nick, who leaned over him and would not relent.

Nick smiled down at him, and Warrick immediately relaxed.

“That was some kinda special ops move or somethin’,” Warrick said.

“I’ve got lots’a tricks up my sleeve,” Nick said before he slid backward, creating amazing friction on the way.

The dominance struggle between them wasn’t something Warrick had ever experienced before, and it made his blood run hot. It was the strangest balance of tenderness, familiarity and control, and Warrick already knew he was addicted. Addicted to Nick Stokes in every way.

“You ready?” Nick asked, as he took Warrick in hand.

Nick’s grip sent electricity up Warrick’s spine, and made his hips thrust all on their own.

“Hold up, hold up,” Nick said, trying to steady Warrick with one hand on his chest. “That’s enough’a that.” His Texas twang got even stronger when he was excited, and Warrick couldn’t banish the thought that it sounded like Nick was talking to a stallion he was trying to break. Hell, maybe that’s what was happening. But it made Warrick burst out laughing suddenly.

“What?” Nick asked, self consciousness tightening his frame and making him second guess himself.

Warrick hated that. Why in the hell did Nick Stokes ever feel self conscious? He was the smartest, cleverest, most beautiful man Warrick had ever met.

“Nothin’ cowboy,” Warrick smiled, trying to make light of it, trying to bring Nick back into the moment and make him comfortable again. That’s all he wanted to do for the rest of his life was make Nick feel wanted and special and comfortable. “Come ‘ere.”

“Cowboy huh?” Nick asked as he leaned forward. “Is this some kinky thing I should know about before I jump into bed with you.”

“First off,” Warrick said against Nick’s lips, holding off the kiss with words, “I don’t know if you noticed, but we are already in bed. Second: it really depends on whether or not you have a cowboy hat.”

Nick kissed him softly. “I could buy one, easy… partner.”

Warrick wanted to hug Nick and roll him over and take care of him. But Nick had taken the lead, and somehow Warrick knew it was what he needed. Maybe what they both needed. So he relaxed and let Nick kiss him until his lips felt raw.

Nick sat back, took Warrick in hand again, and this time Warrick restrained himself and held his body back from thrusting into that grip. Nick knelt tall and then slowly sank down onto Warrick.

He slipped just inside Nick, and it was so much pressure and pleasure that Warrick thought he would explode. It took every single ounce of his restraint to not grab Nick’s hips and take what he wanted. Nick’s face was obscene, eyebrows drawn up in pleasure, eyes closed, mouth hanging open. Warrick closed his own eyes, afraid that watching Nick would be too much, would make him come.

Nick sank another half inch and groaned loud, stopping, holding himself still, adjusting.

Warrick’s brain slipped back into what it knew so well. “Oh baby,” Warrick purred, his voice defaulting to seductive. “So tight baby. Knew you’d be so tight for me.”

Nick laughed again, and pushed himself up and off. “There you go again,” he said. “Such a player, man. And you’re definitely right. Little too tight. Just give me a second here.”

Warrick felt dull shock cascade through him. Nick was right. Default during sex was the same lines he used on everyone else; he hadn’t even said Nick’s name, just “baby.” And Nick wasn’t everyone else. There was no one else in the world like Nick, and he felt like he was tainting their first time by falling back into bad habits. He really was a player. Flitting from person to person and just taking. Calling everyone "baby" so he wouldn’t have to remember names in those moments of passion; so he wouldn’t call out the wrong name and ruin his pleasure. It crumbled Warrick apart inside to think of him doing the same to Nick. Fragile Nick, who seemed strong on the outside but was full of confusion and flaws if you knew just how and where to look.

Nick added more lube to Warrick, jolting him back to the moment. And then Nick leaned down over him, their faces so close, while he reached around behind and opened himself a little more.

Warrick would help him relax. And Warrick would use his name during sex. His resolve was strong.

“You doin’ ok?” Warrick asked.

“I’m good,” Nick panted, letting his face fall against Warrick’s neck. “Just need… a minute.”

“Take all the time in the world,” Warrick said, bringing his hands up to caress the tense muscles in Nick’s back. “Even, like, another few days… a week. All the time you need. We don’t have to-”

“Rick, so help me, if you tell me that we don’t have to do this tonight _again_ , I’m gonna slap you,” Nick huffed against Warrick’s neck.

“Alright, alright,” Warrick said, still massaging at Nick’s back.

“My god you smell good,” Nick said, drawing in a breath against Warrick’s throat.

“That right?” Warrick asked.

Nick made a noise that was all lust, before his mouth moved closer to Warrick’s ear. “I want you so bad Rick.”

Warrick’s body had been flagging a little, brought back down to earth by the idea of Nick not being comfortable, not enjoying himself. But those words trickled through Warrick like gasoline, and then Nick licked the skin under his jaw and set him on fire.

“I’ve wanted you for so long Nick,” Warrick admitted, his mouth and his brain no longer actively communicating. “Every day, for so long.”

Nick sat up, held Warrick steady, and sank down again, further than before. And it was smooth pressure instead of impossible tightness. It didn’t feel like breaking so much as being snug and warm.

Nick shuddered, but he didn’t close his eyes, just watched Warrick.

“Nick,” Warrick’s voice wasn’t smooth or cool or sexy, it was broken and emotional. “You feel so good Nicky.”

“Rick…” Nick sank another inch. “Rick! Oh god, Warrick!”

Warrick still fought his body. Instinct told him to take and have and possess and mark. Make Nick his. But a deeper instinct won out, the one that wanted Nick safe and happy and pleasured. The one that didn’t care if Warrick ever came and had his own pleasure. Warrick let that feeling take over, and it overwhelmed him. Sex had never been tied to emotion for him before, maybe a little, but never so intensely. He couldn’t tell what he was taking more joy in: the feel of Nick sinking that last little bit down onto him, or the way Nick’s face lit up with excitement. They were so closely tied together that Warrick wasn’t sure what was physical sensation and what was emotion.

“God I love you, Nicky,” the words were out of Warrick’s mouth before he could even think them. Which was fine, he didn’t want to take them back, didn’t regret them.

Nick leaned over Warrick, still seated tightly in his lap, and looked him straight in the eye. “I love you too, Rick.” Nick always wore his emotions on his sleeve, and his eyes were misty with it.

And then Nick shifted his hips, pulling up a little, and they both groaned loudly; Nick followed it up with a shouted swear. He sat back down again, and held there for a moment.

“This ain’t gonna go for long,” Warrick warned. “Too much foreplay. About six years too much.”

Nick laughed, and it tensed every muscle in his body, trying to squeeze the orgasm from Warrick.

Nick started a slow pace, lifting his hips and trying to find a rhythm, but they were both so far gone that it wasn’t happening. They couldn’t seem to find their groove. That was fine though, they had plenty of time to practice. Warrick planted his feet and started with short thrusts, trying to meet the off balance movements of Nick’s body. It was uncoordinated, and by all accounts shouldn’t have actually been any good at all. But it was perfect and Warrick knew it was going to end before he wanted it to.

Nick’s body was tight and wet around him, sliding up and down and drawing him closer and closer to orgasm with every single twitch of muscle.

“Where you at Nicky?” Warrick grunted, as he felt his body start to pull together, ready to break.

Their bodies were slick with sweat, and each time Warrick tried to grab on to Nick and grip tight, his fingers slid off. Nick’s face was an open book of pleasure and need, mumbled words that Warrick couldn’t make out tumbling from his lips.

“Talk to me Nick,” Warrick said, repeating: “where you at?” He grabbed Nick’s face in his hands and looked deep into his eyes.

“God, I’m so close Rick,” Nick said softly, sweat dripping from his upper lip. “Make me come, please.”

And something in that plea, in Nick asking for release, sent Warrick over the edge first. The orgasm burst through him, like a firework exploding; the first pop of light exploding, and then another and another until he wasn’t sure it was going to end.

Once it did, he was overstimulated, still deep inside Nick’s body, but Warrick didn’t care. Because Nick still hadn’t come. Warrick was still hard, his body in overdrive, and he thrust his hips faster and faster chasing Nick’s orgasm for him, finding the right angle to fuck Nick just right and make him scream a hoarse growl. And then he took Nick in hand, a tight sure grip, and after four strokes Nick came. He yelled when he came, and it sounded like pleasure and anger and release all made into sound. Warrick stroked him through it, and Nick fell onto him, spent, his body convulsing with pleasure.

“Enough Rick,” Nick whined before he grabbed Warrick’s forearm and stopped his movements. “That’s good. You can stop.”

And somehow Warrick had needed that permission. It wasn’t enough that he knew Nick was done, he wanted Nick to tell him.

Warrick wrapped his arms around Nick, who stroked idly at Warrick's sides with his fingertips.

“Holy shit that was fucking amazing,” Nick said.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Warrick said, squeezing Nick tightly as though to make sure he was real.

“Maybe I am a bottom,” Nick said, lips tickling Warrick’s chest. “After all this time maybe I’ve just been having bad sex.” He huffed out some half hearted laughter that cooled the sweat on Warrick’s skin and made him shiver.

Warrick laughed along with him. “Glad I could be of service.”

“Think we could get away with calling in sick tonight?” Nick asked. Warrick could hear the tiredness starting to take over his voice.

“Not a chance,” Warrick said. “But we can definitely come back here after shift.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Nick said. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want huh?” Warrick asked with a grin.

Nick made an affirmative-type sound.

“Ok, next time you ride me, you’re wearin’ that cowboy hat,” Warrick joked.

Nick pushed up to sit, laughing so hard Warrick thought he might roll off the bed. “You’re such an asshole.”

“But you love me,” Warrick teased, tickling at his adorable stomach.

Nick’s face faded to a serious smile, despite the tickling. “I really do.”


End file.
